Gemotions

He had woken up early, unable to sleep. The pre-dawn light cast long shadows across his bedroom floor. He'd spent the morning cleaning the apartment, a frantic attempt to create order in the face of his internal chaos. He had polished the wooden floors until they shone, arranging books on his shelves, anything to feel like he had control.

He glanced at the unopened letter on the table. It was a tangible threat, a harbinger of potential disappointment. He felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of futility. He took a deep breath, trying to summon some semblance of calm. He walked back to his bed and sat on the edge, the mattress sagging under his weight.

He reached for the letter.